


found a place for me to land

by cynical_optimist



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8671033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: Peter can almost imagine the conversation, Juno’s tired, snappy retorts. The fondness in his tone. The feel of him in his arms, warm and comfortable despite his jagged edges. He could whisper I love you’s into Juno’s hair and hear them returned. He could promise to live in Hyperion City if only it meant waking up to Juno every day, if only Juno would be the future he would look forward to.-Peter wakes up to find Juno gone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is short and sad and sort of terrible but i am also short and sad so.
> 
> title from [landing on mars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06YNKv3yl2M) by raybaboon.

Peter Nureyev wakes up to an empty bed.

It is a slow journey to wakefulness, one that would normally be pleasant and welcome after so long on so little rest. He breathes deeply, remembers the words they had murmured to each other as he had fallen asleep the night before. Fondness settles into his chest and expands, warm.

“Juno?” he mutters, smiling, reaching across the cold, bare sheets on the other side of the bed. He yawns. “Juno?”

The only answer is the brush of the curtains against the window. Peter sits, fumbles for his glasses. “Juno, darling?”

The room is as empty as the bed. Peter swallows, brushes his hair out of his face. It’s likely that Juno only left to get breakfast. He stands, searches for a note.

Nothing.

Peter sighs. He can’t find it in himself to be surprised. That doesn’t stop the heavy swell of disappointment as the minutes tick on, as the little remaining hope dissipates. He’d known, deep down. He always had. Juno is tied to Hyperion City in a way that Peter’s never been to anywhere in the galaxy. He’s got his work and Rita and people who care for him and who he cares for in return. Peter can’t deprive him of that. And perhaps—perhaps this is best.

Juno nearly died just yesterday. He’d lost his eye and gazed into the depths of the mind of a potential mass murderer. He deserves a break from all of that. Peter had thought that was what they were doing in leaving Mars, but. Perhaps it’s Peter that Juno needs a break from. If it hadn’t been for Peter, he would never have been on that train. Miasma wouldn’t have found him so easily, wouldn’t have so easily manipulated him into doing her will.

But Juno had chosen to come, hadn’t he? Juno—fierce, beautiful Juno, far too curious for his own good—had been the one to contact Peter. And then he had continued with the heist, even though he could have left—even though he should have left.

Well. He had, eventually, when Peter had least expected it and most dreaded it. But he hadn’t abandoned him when it counted. He hadn’t abandoned him when there wasn’t a chance for Peter to go after him.

Peter dresses slowly, methodically, every item of clothing perfectly in place. It would take half an hour to walk from the hotel to Juno’s office; forty-five minutes to walk to his apartment. He could go after him—he could ask _why_ , he could promise to stay. He could—

Peter can almost imagine the conversation, Juno’s tired, snappy retorts. The fondness in his tone. The feel of him in his arms, warm and comfortable despite his jagged edges. He could whisper _I love you_ ’s into Juno’s hair and hear them returned. He could promise to live in Hyperion City if only it meant waking up to Juno every day, if only Juno would be the future he would look forward to.

Except—no. He’d already made a promise, hadn’t he? _If it isn’t, I’ll leave alone—for good._ Peter is a man of his word, and this—this is not something he can choose for Juno. If Juno would prefer to remain in Hyperion City, then Peter has no right to interfere with that. And Peter can’t stay—the longest he’s lingered on one planet since Brahma is three months, and that was half because he was recovering from a near-fatal stab wound. By the end of the fifth week, he was itching to move on. He’d never be content to keep still for long, not even here. Not even for Juno Steel.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t ache and burn with the knowledge that Juno just _left_ , that he didn’t leave a note or wake him up to say goodbye or just _explain_. He wants to rage and cry and plead. He wants to leave the planet and never think about Juno Steel or Miasma again. He wants to turn back the clock and wake when Juno did. He wants—he just _wants_.

He wants closure, but that’s never been something afforded to Peter Nureyev.

Peter gathers his things and heads downstairs with all the confidence he has ever gathered in a thousand different identities. He walks like a man who has his life in order, who did not lose the man he loves twice in the space of as many days, who is at peace with himself and all those around him. He walks like the face on the passport he used to book the room.

The woman at the desk smiles at him and he smiles back. “Your man left a few hours ago,” she says, and it takes all the strength Peter has to keep that simple stretch of lips steady.

“He had work early,” he replies, and thinks, _hours?_ How long had Juno stayed, to have left _hours_ before Peter even woke? Had he departed with the sunrise, sneaking out of the hotel like staying was shameful?

There is no point in ruminating, in turning this over in his head as he is. Peter has never liked operating in cold, hard facts, but he has this one: Juno left. Anything beyond that—well, danger is certainly attractive to Peter, but this, perhaps, is too much.

Peter steps out of the hotel, dressed head-to-toe in an identity he’ll discard in a few days, and hails a cab. He has planets to visit, heists to plan. He has moved on from more planets than he can count; surely Juno Steel will be no different. Peter tells this to the ache in his chest and stares at the buildings of Hyperion City until he can pretend that it fades, until he can pretend that, in time, he will forget Juno Steel and all that they could be together, and when the cab passes Juno’s building, he looks the other way and swallows past the lump in his throat.

There is one simple difference between Juno Steel and all the planets that Peter Nureyev has left behind: the planets never even had a chance of becoming his home.

**Author's Note:**

> come cry with me about these poor kids on my [tumblr](http://boxesfullofthoughts.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> (thanks also go to [typehere452](http://typehere452.tumblr.com/) for encouraging to write a peter fic as opposed to a juno fic) (the juno fic might come later)


End file.
